My Eyes Adored You
by Major-Ryan
Summary: Written for the VAMB Secret Drabble exchange 2014. The opening line requested was "Clothes make the man" and here is what followed.


Disclaimer: Trek own all and my poor soul.

Summary: An angsty conversation offworld, leads to some confessions. Kathryn's POV.

A/N: Written for the VAMB Secret Drabble Exchange 2014. The opening line requested was "Clothes make the man". I have done two stories with this line. The first can be found on here too. Thanks to my wonderful Beta, for the time spent helping me. I appreciate it greatly. I have played with it since so mistakes are mine :)

**My Eyes Adored You**

_By Major_Ryan_

"Clothes make the man." I muttered in reflection.

The gathering was in full swing as Voyager mixed and mingled with the local inhabitants. The Nen were a strange society that insisted that negotiations were to be held in spectacular celebration: not a garden-variety party, but a vast display of colorful, expansive ballrooms.

Young Icheb was dressed in his formal uniform for the first time, and I couldn't help but smile. I felt a tight sense of gratification in his appearance, so abstracted from his former self. His transformation was testament to our time here in the Delta Quadrant. Another model crew member to join with Starfleet's finest.

"It's surprising you allowed him to wear it," Chakotay said.

"You mean because he isn't an official member of Starfleet? I wouldn't hold that against him. Besides, he has proven himself time and again. I say he earned the opportunity to don it with the rest of us."

Across the ballroom, Icheb was just about to make his way over to Seven of Nine when two female inhabitants struck up a conversation. One of them appeared to be eying him up and down while the other enthusiastically pointed out the overflowing buffet table.

"Yes, he's certainly apt in his attire, and he's certainly capturing attention."

"Apt. That's one way of putting it," I heard Chakotay reply.

Looking back to my plate, I was deciding on which appetizer I would try next when a hand pilfered what looked like a prawn snap from my selection.

As I looked up at the thief, he smiled and popped the treat into his mouth.

"You have a different interpretation?" I queried, still flummoxed over the lost delicacy that was now masticating in his mouth.

"I wouldn't say different; if anything the uniform has adjusted to him rather than him to it." He swallowed the last mouthful of the snap as I observed his fingers reach across to capture another piece.

His eyes flashed humorously, and if it weren't for my tactical awareness, I might have failed in noticing another delicacy slip away from my possession.

The man was incorrigible.

"Why do you say that?" I prodded.

"Hmm?"

"Why did you imply that his uniform was secondary to his achievement? I would say that everything that uniform stands for has molded him to become a well-adjusted member of society, of our crew. It may be an item of attire, but it's a signature of Starfleet and every rule we govern our lives by. It defines us as a cut above the rest."

"That's true. The Starfleet principals have served as great structure in his rehabilitation, but do you think such a template could only exist within the confines of a Starfleet uniform?"

"No, but compared to Borg implants or even Maquis attire, it stands to reason which would serve better purpose," I replied offhandedly.

It was said in jest, but the look of hurt I received made me instantly regret the jab. His questioning gaze had fixated me on the spot.

It was out of character for me to be so sarcastic, but it seemed to slip out of my subconscious from nowhere, an incoherent nothing.

Stumbling over my thoughts, I noticed Chakotay's frustration simmering under the pressure of maintaining professionalism. Much to my dismay, he moved closer than I deemed appropriate, an effort to keep his words from prying onlookers, I assumed.

"Commander," I tried explaining gently.

He opened his mouth to speak, but I needed to apologize.

"I'm sorry, Chakotay, maybe the wine hasn't ag..."

I was cut off before I could make it right.

"Whatever you think the Maquis organization is or was, Kathryn, know this. There is not a day that goes by where I wish I had done things differently. I ache for a second chance to stop myself from ending a life or enlisting a serial maniac who only wanted to add to his trophy collection, but I will never regret being a part of the Maquis. Being that man who fought along-side people tagged as immaterial, because they dared to challenge the rules: no Starfleet uniform would ever do that to save lives."

His venting was uttered in crisp annoyance. I suddenly felt blind and inadequate to argue my case, but I had to steer us away from this delicately.

"Chakotay, you are a part of Starfleet. You joined because you felt they could give you the tools to help your people. I don't understand where this is coming from."

At that point Tom caught my attention, his gaze watching closely from across the room; I waved him off. Oblivious to the audience, Chakotay continued his case, forcing me to pull him into an alcove, out of sight and, hopefully, sound. He didn't resist, too ensconced in finishing his speech, "It's the people that shape our lives, Kathryn, not uniforms and you of all people should know that."

"Chakotay, I only meant tha.."

"I know what you meant, but sometimes I think you take it literally. You have accepted that my crew has succeeded in becoming model Starfleet officers, largely based on me being their captain, an ex 'fleeter with training and experience, but you refuse to admit that any one of those Maquis who died out there couldn't do the same? Kathryn, you're a great leader who has incredible strength and wisdom. Starfleet didn't teach you that, the people around you did. Your family and friends. You know the truth, Kathryn, and no amount of distancing will cure you of vulnerability; it's a pseudo-shield at best."

"Chakotay, I'm fully aware of the influences of the people around me and how they have shaped me. If anything, Starfleet has taught me to honor those people. That's why I destroyed the array. Do you believe that we wouldn't have suffered more casualties if we stuck around, tinkering with a prized piece of technology on their behalf? Do you think Starfleet would have welcomed Seven of Nine with open arms and rehabilitated her? No, they would have seen her as too big a risk and blown the hatch, no objections logged. I made those decisions based on the very things you describe, I just did it with Starfleet resources. I don't regret it, even when I'm holed up in my quarters, second-guessing myself to the point of madness. You know that."

"But you won't apply that same principle to us?" His gaze dropped to the four pins splayed just below my right collarbone.

"Chakotay, what would you have me do? Hang up my uniform and say to hell with it, because you think I can't distinguish between my duty to Starfleet and what is important to me?"

"Do you think I want that?"

"To be honest, yes. Sometimes I think you do. It makes it easier for you to see me as Kathryn, rather than your captain. With the responsibility gone, you could indulge in us without any barrier of duty to get in the way. You know that's not possible out here."

"You're partly right, but you're in denial if you think I'm fooled by your words. There have been many occasions where you have out-stepped those opinions, all under the guise of regulation. All I ever hoped was for you to consider me as one of those influences. Not because I'm a member of your crew or even because I'm your friend, but as someone who sees you as you. Loves you as you regardless of your captaincy.

"I never fell in love with a uniform," he whispered, so close now that I could almost taste his spiced skin.

I let his rough stubble whisper across my lips, for a fleeting moment.

"Neither did I," I promised, smoothing my uniform and rejoining the crowd.

THE END.


End file.
